


What The Water Gave Me

by exyking



Series: Creatures and Cryptids [3]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Cecaelias, Consentacles, Damen is a Cecaelia, Laurent is a Human, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Tentacles, Xenophilia, aka disney prince tentacle porn, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exyking/pseuds/exyking
Summary: The first time he had seen the creature, Laurent had been afraid.Afraid and intrigued.





	What The Water Gave Me

**Author's Note:**

> Because my wrestling fic is taking ages, I thought i'd post this in the meantime. It's only the first part, and i've got maybe one or two other bits planned, but i'll be focusing on finishing it after the wrestling porn and the incubus stuff is done. Who knows how long that'll take (you could always inspire me with some juicy comments)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to @dragonmage27 who is entirely to blame for me not giving up on this mess

The first time he’d seen the creature, Laurent had been afraid.

Afraid and intrigued.

It had been watching him, perched on one of the larger rocks by the overhanging cave. Laurent hadn’t noticed it at first, far too absorbed with looking for the seashell with the golden spine that he’d promised to find for his brother. It had sat so quietly, so still, it wasn’t until Laurent was a handful of feet away that he saw it at all.

He first thought him a man, and had reached for the hidden dagger in his jacket, ready to defend himself from an apparent spy, until he noticed something not quite right. The man’s eyes were too black, his pupils were too wide. Movement caught his eye, and Laurent’s gaze travelled down, before he stopped dead in his tracks. 

Where there should have been legs instead there was… definitely  _ not legs _ . Strange, wet-looking, reddish black flesh stretched down from the creature’s hips, and beyond that there were… tentacles? Laurent thought they could only be described as tentacles. It looked like something out of one of his biology tomes, an octopus he thought, though he’d thought octopus only had eight legs. This… thing had a great deal more than that. Some were thin, others thick, and all had fleshy suckers lining the underside of their length.

The man was not a man at all, but Laurent did not know what that made him. What could you call a thing that looked half man and half sea creature? 

Laurent stood motionless for a long time, waiting for the creature to attack, prepared to defend himself. The creature did nothing. It just stared at him with its unsettling, inhuman eyes.

It didn’t seem to mean him harm. It had had plenty of opportunity to strike out against him before he had noticed it, and had yet to move an inch. Laurent considered that the creature might be just as wary of him as he was it, like spiders, he thought, who feared you as much as you feared them.

Steeling himself, Laurent put away his blade, and took a step forward.

With a near silent splash, faster than Laurent could blink, the creature threw itself back into the sea and disappeared. 

Laurent was almost convinced it had been a strange, waking dream. A hallucination, perhaps. His mind playing tricks on him. There was no other logical explanation he could conjure for what he had witnessed.

He returned to the palace deep in thought and empty handed, unable to find the shell he’d been searching for, and unable to provide his brother with an explanation as to why.

He holed himself up in the library for the remainder of the day, trying to find answers. He searched for hours and found nothing, not a single mention of any octopus-human hybrid in any biology tome, nor even in any fairy tale or lore of cryptids.

Laurent did not often doubt his sanity, but he was beginning to wonder.

The next day, he went back.

To his immediate surprise, the creature was there, again. It seemed to be sleeping on the rock, sunning itself much like a human might. After pinching himself to ensure he wasn’t dreaming, Laurent approached as quietly as he could, determined to get a closer look at the thing before it ran away again.

Its human half was… attractive. Its bare chest was obscenely wide and densely muscled, its skin a warm golden tan that shimmered like liquid caramel in the sunlight. Its face was all strong lines and sharp angles, intensely masculine in a way Laurent couldn’t help but notice. There was fine webbing in-between its fingers, and Laurent thought he saw pearls braided in its hair, but when he tried to get a closer look his foot nudged a rock and the creature shot upright. It stared at him, its black eyes wide.

Laurent held up his hands, trying to show the creature he was unarmed, that he meant no harm, though he was unsure if the creature was intelligent enough to understand his meaning. It cocked its head, eyes travelling up and down Laurent’s form.

“Can you understand me?” Laurent asked.

The creature blinked at him. It opened its mouth, and, for a moment, Laurent was hopeful it might prove capable of speech, before it suddenly turned and flung itself back into the water.

The bloody monster was a coward, Laurent thought.

He returned to the library that evening with fresh determination, and devoted himself to finding answers. He went through every book the puzzled old librarian could find, on every subject from modern sea creatures to ancient amphibians. He even snuck into the room where the very old, very frail books were kept for repair, a place he’d been forcibly removed from many a time before, and tried to find something among those ancient, near incomprehensible texts. Once more, he came up empty handed.

The next day, the creature was there again.

It seemed to be waiting for Laurent, for as soon as Laurent rounded the corner into the cove it straightened from its slouch against the rock and watched him with its dark, intense eyes. Laurent made a point to stand a ways back from it. He didn’t want to scare it off again. He was hopeful that the creature might prove more interactive today. He was desperate to know if it was capable of speech. 

“Can you understand me?” Laurent asked, pronouncing each word slowly and deliberately.

“Yes.”

Its voice was shockingly deep, Laurent thought, the sound seemed to flow from its mouth like a wave chasing up the shore, coarse and rough like saltwater on sand.

Hoping he wasn't pressing his luck, Laurent asked: “What are you?”

“They called me Damen.”

It did not elaborate further, on this ‘they’ it mentioned, nor the nature of it’s offered title. Laurent assumed it was his name, he’d never heard of a species called as such.

“I am Laurent,” he offered in return.

“I know.”

Perhaps Laurent should have been unnerved by this, but the creature did not seem to be posing a threat. It cocked its head, watching him curiously. It reminded Laurent of an innocent, animal like curiosity, the kind one might see in a cat presented with a new toy; inquisitive, intrigued, and tempted to play, to understand.

“You have heard of me?” Laurent asked.

“I have seen you.” 

“Watched me?” 

The creature shrugged, such an incredibly human gesture that Laurent blinked in surprise. “You are interesting,” it said.

Laurent took a step closer, but stopped when the creature tensed. Laurent stopped and raised his hands again in peace, and ‘Damen’ seemed mollified.

From this angle, Laurent could see the scars on its back.

With a tilt of his head he gestured to them. “Who did that to you?”

The creature did not look to where Laurent was referring. Its eyes remained firmly locked with Laurent's. “Men are cruel." It said.

Laurent pursed his lips. Presented with such evidence, the litany of scars that covered the skin of Damen’s back brokered little argument. Laurent knew what cruelties men were capable of.

Still he said, “Not all,” and willed the creature to believe it.

“Not you?”

Laurent inclined his head. “I mean you no harm." 

Damen made a strange clicking sound with his tongue, and relaxed a little. “I believe you.”

Laurent was pleased. He truly did not mean the creature harm—it was obviously an intelligent being possessing of higher thought. He had no desire to bring suffering upon a creature with that kind of sentience. Laurent was not cruel.

What Laurent was, first and foremost, was an intellectual. When presented with something like this, undiscovered,  _ new _ , his first instinct was to learn and understand. If he could assure the creature of its safety, gain its trust, who knew what knowledge it might impart? 

“What are your kind called?” Laurent asked.

Damen clicked again, pondering this question. “There is no name in your tongue.”

“Then in yours?” 

Damen proceeded to make a sequence of clicks and croons. Laurent made a single attempt at trying to emulate the series of sounds, before quickly abandoning the effort when Damen threw back his head and laughed. His laughter was a strange sound. It was breathy and rough, like rocks cracking together underfoot, though the echo that trailed rang of a sweeter pitch, like a gust of wind against a wooden chime.

“Perhaps, if you would repeat it slowly?” 

Damen shook his head in amusement, but obliged Laurent, carefully and slowly repeating the strange noises he made. Laurent did his best to repeat them, but man’s tongue was not made for this language, and Damen only laughed again.

The sound brought an unbidden smile to Laurent’s lips.

“What are you doing out here?” Laurent asked.

Damen reclined on his rock. “I enjoy the sun."

“This close to the city? The evidence on your back should speak to greater caution.”

Damen shrugged. “This shore is interesting,” he said, and smirked. “The golden princes come here.”

Laurent’s smile twitched. “Golden princes?”

“The taller one, with the sword and crown, and the one he calls Laurent,” Damen flicked a pebble in his direction. “This is you.” 

Laurent inclined his head. “You speak of Auguste,” he said, “My brother. He is the king.” 

This information seemed to interest Damen, though Laurent could not imagine why. What concern were human affairs for a sea creature?

“My father is king,” Damen said.

Laurent blinked. “King?”

Damen nodded, flashing a toothy grin. Laurent noticed the sharp little points of his teeth. “I suppose that makes us equals."

That was not something Laurent had expected to hear. He’d never expected to share social standing with… an Octopus. 

“What kingdom is this?” Laurent asked. 

Laurent listened in enraptured silence as Damen told him of Akielos. It was vast and innumerable, Damen said, stretching from Laurent’s shores to the edges of the eastern sea, the greatest kingdom in all the ocean.

He spoke of the creatures that lived within its borders, all subjects that made up what would one day be his kingdom. He explained to Laurent in as simple a way as he could about the strange dichotomy of sea life, from the intelligent merfolk to their more bestial brethren; sharks and squid and fish and even whales. It was fascinating, strange, a world apart from Laurent’s sphere of knowledge.

Damen spoke for a long time, and Laurent found himself tiring of standing. Without thought, Laurent leant against Damen’s rock, relieving some of the weight on his feet. He caught himself after he'd done it, realising how close he'd willing put himself to this potentially dangerous entity, how his action might be perceived as a threat. He needn't have worried. Damen eagerly shuffled aside to give him room, his body manoeuvred by his muscular arms while his tentacles splashed in the water below. He barely paused in his speech.

Laurent relaxed, and found himself soothed by the soft, alien rasp of Damen's voice, entranced by the vivid beauty of his words. Damen was clearly very intelligent, he knew well how to make himself understood in Laurent’s foreign tongue. Laurent wondered how this could be.

“I was betrayed, a long time ago,” Damen told him, “Enslaved by humans. My own brother, he…” his face crumpled, clearly pained. “I killed him.”

Laurent was strongly tempted to comfort Damen. This was not a feeling he was accustomed to. Uncertain, hesitant, he reached out, and placed his hand on Damen’s forearm, the closest thing he could reach. He took a moment to appreciate the coolness of Damen’s skin, and its softness. He was entirely hairless on his arms, and though the wetness of him lent to a slimy quality, the smoothness was remarkable.

At his touch, Damen startled, and looked down at him with wide, dark eyes. He smiled, softly, his cheeks dimpling.

Laurent couldn’t help but notice.

Too soon, it seemed, the sun began to set. They must have talked for hours. Laurent braced now against the cold wind that battered their cove, wrapping his arms around himself to still the shivering.

He knew his brother would send out a search party soon, and Auguste, who knew Laurent better than anyone, would come looking here first. 

Laurent couldn’t allow Damen to be seen.

He looked to the creature in question, and studied the profile of his turned face; the patrician slant of his nose, the strong jut of his jaw, the weightless crown of curls that framed his head. The pearls he thought he’d seen earlier were indeed there, braided in clusters into the dark trestles of Damen’s hair. This close, he could see the tiny, faint freckles that peppered across Damen’s cheeks.

Damen ignored his attention, his eyes were full of the sea. He stared out beyond the horizon, past the golden orange hues of the waning sun as it descended towards the edge of the world. “I must go,” he said.

Surprising himself, Laurent brushed the tips of his fingers over Damen’s hand where it lay on the rock by his side.

“Will you return?”

Damen looked at him, and his smile was so bright, so earnest, Laurent couldn’t help but return it.

“Tomorrow?” Damen asked.

“I’ll be here.”

***

It quickly became habit. The brightest spot in an otherwise boring string of days.

Every evening Laurent went out to the cove by the shore, where every evening, without fail, he found Damen waiting for him. Every day they talked, sharing their culture, their histories, their interests and pastimes and frustrations of their courtly life.

Damen was a warrior, Laurent learned, the greatest in all the ocean. He had fought in hundreds of battles in dozens of wars, he boasted that he could rip the greatest predators in the sea apart with his bare hands. Laurent also learned that he had a gentle side, a kind side, even if he did not openly admit it. Laurent could read it in the warmth in his eyes when he spoke of his nephew, the child of the brother that had betrayed him, who he had raised like his own son. Laurent could hear it in the way he spoke of his people, who, for all their fatal flaws and faults, were good at heart, he professed, and deserved peace. He spoke of all he would change when he became king. He spoke of the end to war and suffering, and the prosperity he hoped to foster.

In many ways, he reminded Laurent of Auguste.

Laurent had a hard time consolidating this image of Damen with a monster. He had a hard time thinking of him as the creature he once had, when he had first discovered him watching Laurent on his rock.

For his own part, Laurent found himself confiding more in Damen than he ever thought he would dare with anyone. Only with Auguste had he shared so much of himself. Laurent couldn’t really explain why.

Despite everything that might have cautioned against it, Laurent felt a degree of trust towards Damen. Perhaps it was because Damen, at the end of the day, wasn’t human. He didn’t walk among the men whose judgement had shaped Laurent far more than he liked to admit. He didn’t share their cruel assumptions and flighty natures, their fickle loyalty and loose tongues. Damen lacked the fundamental prejudices of Laurent’s people. He lacked the ability to cast their judgements.

Damen's responses and questions were always insightful, his observations never coloured by disgust. He asked about the books Laurent read, every day since Laurent had first mentioned his love of reading. He asked about the councils Laurent often bemoaned his frustrations about, and laughed when Laurent spoke of how dearly he wished to eviscerate that obstinate councillor who dared to overlook his astute observations on trade agreements with the north. Laurent’s wicked tongue amused him, as much as it had always disgusted his human peers. The very things that Laurent had been told made him cruel, distasteful, a nuisance and a burden, made Damen smile wider than Laurent had ever made anyone smile. Made him laugh more than Laurent had made anyone laugh.

He never tired to speak of Laurent’s interests, whether they interested Damen or not.

It was almost like having a friend. 

Which is, perhaps, why Laurent let his guard down.

It happened during the second week of their conversations. Damen had been lounging in the water, on a low ledge of rocks in the pool that lined the cave overhanging the cove. He had finally, after many days of trying, managed to coax Laurent into join him.

Laurent had put up a good fight. He was not in the habit of swimming with others, he detested the vulnerability of removing so much of his clothes in the presence of another, but Damen was relentless. It seemed an impossible thing to resist the coy smile Damen gave him, the playful flick of his tentacles, and his promises of relief against the summer heat. 

So, Laurent began to untie the laces at his sleeves and throat. It took so long, Damen chittered in impatience. 

“What is the purpose of such clothing?” He asked, with an irritable flick of a tentacle in the water. “It is impractical.”

Laurent raised a brow as he finally managed to pull the jacket off, only to reveal an undershirt beneath with more ties. “Harsh opinions from a man wearing quite literally nothing.”

Laurent pretended not to notice that Damen didn’t look away when he pulled his shirt over his head, nor when he removed his trousers, leaving him only in a brief under cloth. He marked it down to curiosity, perhaps Damen had never seen a human so undressed. He slid quickly into the water, dunking his head under the surf and relishing its coolness. This summer had been a hot one, especially laced up so tightly.

When Laurent breached the surface for air, Damen was still watching him.

Laurent sat on the rocks, a distance away. He couldn’t see the writhing mass of Damen’s tentacles in the disturbed water, and didn’t wish to accidentally sit on one of them. Damen didn’t comment on this. Laurent was imagining seeing his lower lip pursing in disappointment.

“Cooler?” Damen asked, flicking some water at Laurent’s face with a finger.

Laurent splashed back, flinging a great deal more at Damen, who turned his face against the spray and laughed. The sound, for all he had heard it, still gave Laurent pause. Still made shivers run down his spine. For all its unnaturalness, to his human ears it was… beautiful. Haunting.

“Much,” Laurent said. 

They lounged in the water together for a long while, talking of inconsequential things. Damen was trying to explain an Akielon sport--wrestling--though it involved far too many rules and appendages for Laurent to follow. He nodded along, aimlessly following the gist, relaxing to the soothing tones of Damen's voice.

Laurent did not know when he had started to drift closer to Damen. He pushed himself off the rocks at some point, to tread water and float for a moment, and when he re-seated himself he hardly noticed that he sat closer. The gentle current sweeping the cove seemed to be edging them slowly together.

By the time Laurent’s hand brushed one of Damen’s tentacles, he was only a handful of feet away.

Laurent startled at the touch, having momentarily forgotten Damen was not human, and had tentacles. He did not flinch away though, as it appeared Damen had expected him to, if the wary set of his shoulders was any indication. 

Laurent wondered if a human had ever looked at him with anything less than fear.

Boldly, Laurent cupped the small tentacle in his palm, running a finger gently along its surface, feeling its texture. It was smoother than Damen’s skin had been, spongier, with less dense muscle. Its colour was a reddish black hue, but Laurent thought it purpled a little under his touch. The suckers along the underside were much softer than he had expected, almost entirely malleable when he ran his finger along them.

He caught himself when he heard Damen make a small sound, realising he’d just helped himself to a part of Damen’s body without first asking.

“I apologise—”

“Don’t,” Damen said. “It feels nice.”

He curled the tentacle around Laurent’s wrist, and wriggled it cheekily in the palm of his hand. Laurent chuckled, tickling his fingers over it.

Damen  _ groaned. _

Laurent looked at him, startled. Did he mean… Oh

_ Oh _ .

Laurent’s first reaction was, somewhat surprisingly, curiosity. He had wondered where the... male  _ appendage _ might be upon Damen’s person. For purely scientific reasons, of course, he wasn’t… In any case, marine life tended to fall upon a broad spectrum, concerning their reproductive organs. He had wondered if Damen had something more conventional tucked away. Now… well, he supposed it was rather obvious.

Was there was a primary tentacle for these purposes? Perhaps it was this tentacle, that he’d just so happened to brush, though it did seem rather small and, well, frail, for marine copulation. Perhaps they all harboured a degree of sensitivity, while one carried the means for reproduction? Or, were they all capable sex organs?

“I can see your mind working from here,” Damen said.

Laurent blinked. “I was just—”  _ thinking about your sex organs _ , “—lost in thought.”

Damen chuckled. The sound made Laurent shiver.

“Well, don’t let me distract you.” 

Laurent felt a strange sensation then on the back of his hand. He turned it over, and found one of the suckers attached to his flesh. The sensation was gentle, just a taste of the kind of power this muscle might prove capable of. It was… not unpleasant.

He wondered what it would feel like…

Laurent cleared his throat, sitting upright. He hoped the heat he felt in his cheeks wasn’t too obvious.

Damen smiled, and wisely didn’t say a word.

That night was the first night Laurent dreamt of Damen.

He dreamt of the tentacle curled around his wrist, dreamt of its silky smoothness rubbing against his skin. He dreamt of other tentacles, larger, thicker, curling around his body, pulling him closer, holding him suspended in the water. He dreamt of feeling them all over his skin, their cool, smooth, slimy texture writhing over every inch of him. He dreamt of gentle suction on his chest, over his nipples, of the delighted sound Damen would make when he found how sensitive they were. He felt them curling around his neck, suckling the sensitive skin of his throat, covering him with perfect, circular marks.

Damen was all around him, pulling him in, holding him close, exactly as Laurent wanted. He bent his head, nipped Laurent’s ear, and growled, “ _ Mine _ .” When Laurent gasped, Damen claimed his lips. 

Tentacles coiled around his thighs, between them, sneaking under the hem of his under cloth and curling around him  _ there _ . He felt himself throb, push into the tentacle winding around his length, as others curled around his wrists and ankles and thighs and kept him still. There were smaller ones around his balls, tugging playfully, curiously, pressing suction against the most delicate part of him and making Laurent shake and gasp. Another, right over the head, suckers greedily pressing themselves against the slit and drawing pre-come straight out of his cock.

Every sensitive place on his body was consumed with the gentle, overwhelming sensation of suction, utterly enveloped in inky red flesh that danced and writhed over his skin, never giving him a moment of respite.

Then, at his entrance, the tiny tip of a curious tentacle. It rubbed gently at the puckered flesh, coaxing Laurent’s body to relax, to yield, before dipping inside. It created its own slick, his mind supplied. It slipped inside easier than breathing.

It pushed in deep, too thin to hurt, and wriggled curiously in his passage. When it grazed the bump that made Laurent’s entire body seize, it stayed there, pressed harder and, impossibly, a sucker lined up against it and oh,  _ oh _ …

_ Damen _ .

Laurent awoke abruptly. He felt stickiness between his thighs. He looked down and yes, there it was, a dark patch spreading across his sheets. He felt his cock slowly softening against his stomach.

He’d come in his sleep, like a pubescent boy. Dreaming of Damen.

Laurent, for the first time in his recent memory, didn’t know what to think.

He knew it was wrong, objectively. He had grown up in a place where sexual deviancy was commonplace, nay, encouraged, but this… This was something else entirely.

Damen wasn’t human. He might have the face of a man, the mind of one, but beyond that… he was not  _ human _ .

And yet, he was not some bestial creature either, capable of nothing beyond primitive thought. He was intelligent, he was educated, he was compassionate and critically thinking, he had thoughts, opinions, he knew how to express them. He had a greater mind than most men.

He was kind.

But, he also had tentacles.  The mere thought made Laurent shiver.

Where did that leave him?

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @exyking
> 
> If you'd like a visual reference for Damen/cecaelias:  
> http://lenadraws.tumblr.com/post/166059453966/inktober-day-4-underwater  
> https://i.pinimg.com/736x/c1/1f/fe/c11ffecc073ce670800e2b8191c428af.jpg  
> https://78.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcwf7wsDCz1r8qvtio1_500.jpg
> 
> aaaaand nsfw:  
> https://cobaltmoonysart.tumblr.com/post/162764003931/one-of-my-three-artworks-for-capreversebb-captain


End file.
